


I Can Only Help You if You're Not an Idiot.

by theatergirl06



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Enjoy!, F/F, LOL:), What is happening?!, not Six!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theatergirl06/pseuds/theatergirl06
Summary: An ordinary party ends in one stupid decision after another.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Heather Duke, Heather McNamara/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	I Can Only Help You if You're Not an Idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of injuries and pain, lots of swearing, darkness, crashing.

Heather Chandler stared at herself in the mirror. She cocked her head to the left, staring at her lipstick and wiping at the corner of her mouth lightly with her hand. 

Hmm. Something was off. It wasn’t her red dress. With its thin straps, chiffon overlay, and swishing skirt, it was absolutely perfect. It wasn’t her long blonde hair, tied half back with her red scrunchie. It wasn’t her gold heels and her red painted toenails that poked out the front. It certainly wasn’t the jeweled bracelet on her wrist.

What  _ was  _ it?   
Ugh, this was going to bug her all freaking night. What a pain. 

The doorbell rang. Heather gave herself one last look in the mirror and raced down the stairs, being sure not to break her heels. They were new, after all. 

Mac was standing at the door, looking annoyingly like a ray of sunshine. Heather  _ liked  _ Mac, but sometimes her sunniness was just downright irritating. That was one of the reasons she’d fallen for Heather Duke. Like herself, Heather pulled no punches in describing the world exactly as it was. 

Either way, once you got passed the irritating sunniness, Mac did look nice. Her hair was in a messy bun on the top of her head, strands hanging down her head and framing her face. Her dress was less revealing than Chandler’s (unsurprisingly), but it was still pretty, with a pleated skirt and a sunflower print. Her gold heels looked a lot like Chandler, but the toes were closed, which was a good thing, because it would’ve  _ really  _ sucked it they’d worn the same shoes. 

At least she wasn’t taller than her. The only person taller than her was Veronica, and it annoyed the hell out of her. 

Mac grinned. “You look amazing!”

Heather smirked and flipped her hair. “I know.”

Mac laughed. “I know you know.”

“Mmmhmm, then why’d you say it?”

“Uh, because it’s polite?”

“Mac, you should know by now I don’t  _ do  _ polite. I do true.”

Mac sighed. “Fair enough.”

Heather slid seamlessly into the back of Mac’s car. Mac was by far the best driver of the bunch, probably because she was the only one not speeding for fun (like Chandler), trying to read and drive because she was bored (Duke), or just plain nervous behind the wheel, coming to screeching halts every five seconds (Veronica). Either way, Mac’s driving was good enough that Heather could drift off and stare out the window instead of worrying about crashing and death.

She found her thoughts wandering to Heather Duke, as they did a lot when she was lost in thought. They’d been dating for almost six months now, and she still couldn’t believe it. She’d had feelings for Heather for nearly a year before they started dating, and when she’d finally told her, it hadn’t been pretty. She’d been drunk and spilled it all out to Veronica, and Heather had overheard her. Luckily, she had also had feelings for her at the time, and had slipped her a note in class the next day.

Heather hadn’t told anyone, but she kept the note in her desk drawer, and she often pulled it out and looked at it when she had a bad day. 

Yes, both she and Heather had incredibly snarky exteriors. Most of the time, they really were just being realistic, but they’d both had to admit in time that  _ sometimes, maybe  _ it could come off as mean. While Heather Chandler was incredibly protective of herself and her friends, to the point of lashing out at everyone else, Heather Duke was very, very wary of sharing her emotions, which made her closed-off and prickly.

In the past six months, they had worked on their meanness together. It had taken them both (and Mac) a long time to admit that  _ maybe  _ mean wasn’t  _ always  _ the best thing to be, but after a  _ very  _ scary incident, they’d all been forced to take another look at their lives.

Heather had been embarrassed to say the least, and she had a hard time letting down her walls of protection. But over time, it got just a bit easier. And the three of them (along with Veronica), had been surprised to find a bond that was truly real.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t still kick your ass, though.

A tap on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw Mac sitting next to her, grinning and blushing. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Veronica entering the house. No wonder she was blushing. Mac had been head over heels for Veronica ever since she’d saved her life. Mac had told Heather in private that she hoped, if the day came, she would be able to return the favor. Heather hadn’t said it (as much as she’d done her best to stop being mean, she still had a hard time with sappiness), but she had no doubt that her friend would come through if the time ever came. Mac was driven by compassion. When it came to helping people, she was the best.

She grinned as she stepped out of Mac’s van, taking in the party around her. It was supposed to be in the house, but since it was summer, the party had spilled out onto the lawn, with drinks just inside the door, a table with speakers playing at top volume, and people dancing all over the lawn.

Veronica ran up to them, looking excited, hair slightly messy, but looking relatively sober (Heather was good at telling how drunk people were. She would guess Veronica had had about half a beer). Her dress was pretty, though not Heather’s style. Light blue with a pleated skirt and deeper blue squares on the side.    
The speakers thumped loudly with a faster beat. Mac squealed and grabbed Veronica’s hand.

“I love this song!”

Veronica grinned, yelling over the speakers. “I don’t know this song!”

“There’s a dance! I’ll teach it to you!”

“Okay!” 

They disappeared into the crowd, though Heather knew that if she needed to find them, Veronica, being very tall, would always be easy to spot.

In the mean time, she made her way to the drinks table, enjoying the way heads turned as she walked by. There was something about everyone’s eyes on her that made her feel  _ real.  _ Like she  _ mattered. _

But tonight, she knew they were just staring at her dress. She smirked. There was a reason she’d spent countless hours choosing it. Those sorts of things paid off. A night feeling like you were floating on clouds, like you were absolutely gorgeous, on top of the world and no one could touch you, those nights, those moments, were worth all the work.

It was why Heather did what she did. 

But some people didn’t even need to try, because they didn’t want everyone’s eyes on them. They just wanted to be in a position where they could be left alone.

But they were so gorgeous that they couldn’t help but be noticed. 

Or maybe Heather just couldn’t stop looking at Heather Duke.

Occasionally, Heather was the sort of person to dance, and dance  _ hard.  _ She never, ever danced lightly. But most of the time, she could be found elsewhere at parties, sometimes in a quiet room or even a closet, or curled up under a tree, book in hand. 

Tonight she had not a book in hand, but a play. 

“Romeo and Juliet? Thought you didn’t go for love stories.”

Duke didn’t even look up from her book. “Thought you didn’t go for reading.”

“I don’t. But I read the Cliff Notes so I could pass the test and not get detention.”

“I hate this stupid play.”

“Good thing I read the Cliff Notes, then.”

“That’s usually a shitty thing to do.”

“Why do you hate it?”

“Do you even care, Heather?”

“Oh come on, Heather, I’m  _ pretending  _ I care because I’m trying to be not a bitch so pretend you believe me.”

Duke laughed, a rare sound from her. Carefully, Heather plopped down on the grass next to her, making sure it was a dry spot and that she didn’t get grass stains on her dress. Of course Heather wasn’t sitting on her hands, but she looked gorgeous anyway. Black dress with a sheer overlay at the top, silvery green jewelry that glowed against her skin and reflected off her smooth, shiny black hair. 

“These characters are such  _ idiots.  _ It’s literally one of those stupid teen shows that Mac loves, but with a bunch of fancy words trying to make it sound better, as though we’re all too dumb to see through it. It’s honestly insulting.”

Heather tried not to laugh. She loved it when Heather got riled up over her books, though she would never tell her that. Despite being an official couple, the two had a silent agreement to avoid any sort of frills or overly sweet compliments. It wasn’t true to either of them. 

“More insulting than the fact that I read the Cliff Notes?”

“Babe,  _ nothing  _ is more insulting than that.”

Heather squinted at the party, and smirked. Mac was standing on the table and singing along to one of the cheesy love songs, something by Taylor Swift. But the worst thing was that, despite her dancing skills, she was doing corny dance moves for everyone to see. Veronica was laughing and blushing, but everyone else looked very bored. 

“I don’t know. You might’ve just found something.”

The two girls used the tree to push themselves off the ground until they were standing and could see the entire yard. 

“Oh wow. No one should have to see that.” 

“I mean, I know she’s trying to be cute, but honestly…”

“It’s just too much.”

Heather felt an idea forming in her brain. One that was a little risky, but would be well worth it.

“What if we pranked her?”

Duke rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No! Look, this isn’t the first time she’s done this at a party, and she’s my friend, but it drives me  _ fucking insane _ !”

Duke sighed. She looked at her book.    
Across the lawn, Mac squealed out a particularly high note and leapt into the air. 

“All right. I’m in. What’s the dumb plan?”

“Please, you don’t even know what it is yet.”

“I know it’s gonna be stupid.”

“Nothing I ever do is stupid, Heather.”

“Just tell me what you’re planning.”

Heather placed her hand on her hip and cocked her head. “You see that drink at the drinks table that looks like water and isn’t.”

Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, why…” her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence. “Mac’s oath of sobriety. For cheerleading. You wouldn’t.”

Heather smirked and put her hand on her hip. “To stop that god awful screeching? Heather, I’d probably fuck myself with a chainsaw if I had to.”

“She’s driving.”

“So one of us will drive. Come on, I’m literally going insane here.”   
Heather took one last look at her book and sighed. “All right. Get me some of whatever to hell that alcohol is.”

Except one of them didn’t end up driving. After getting Mac to drink their “water,” Heather and Heather had celebrated by drinking some themselves. Some had turned into more, and then more, and then more, until Mac was the least drunk out of the three of them. 

As they drove home, Heather squealed and leaned her head out of the backseat window, feeling the breeze whipping through her hair. It felt cold and amazing and perfect.

In the front, Heather Duke leaned on the dashboard and groaned.

Mac giggled.

And then there was a crashing sound, and everything went dark. 

***

The last thing Heather Duke remembered was giving Mac some water that wasn’t water with Heather Chandler at a party.

Now her head hurt, the world was blurry, and there was an annoying beeping sound that wouldn’t leave her ears. 

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Bright lights. White walls. Machines beeping.

She was in a hospital. 

Slowly and carefully, she sat up, using her pillows to give herself extra support, though she didn’t feel as though she needed it. 

She froze.

Heather Chandler was sitting in a chair next to the bed, almost asleep, eyes half open. She looked a complete mess, the worst Heather had ever seen her. She was wearing the same dress she’d been wearing the night of the party, her hair was a tangled mess, there were dark circles under her eyes, a bandage on her arm, and blood on her wrists, probably from nervous scratching like she tended to do. Heather wasn’t a sap, but even she hated seeing her girlfriend this way. 

“Heather.” Wow, her voice was hoarse. How long had she gone without speaking?   
Heather snapped out of her half-asleep state with a start. Seeing Heather awake and sitting up, she exhaled as though she’d been holding her breath for months.

“Oh god, you’re awake. You’re alive.”

“What the hell happened?”

Heather looked more unhinged than Heather had ever seen her. She usually put so much care into appearing perfect, it was unnerving to see her so...raw. 

“Oh, god Heather, it was all my fucking fault. I got annoyed at Mac’s singing and I talked her into drinking even though she was driving, and then the car crashed, and Mac needed stitches in her arm, and you got a concussion, and you’ve been lying here for two and a half days, and it’s all my fault because I did one of those stupid reckless things I do sometimes, and I am  _ so, so sorry!”  _

To Heather’s shock, the blonde girl burst into tears right before her eyes.

Oh no.

She wanted to help, of course she did, but she was downright  _ awful  _ at this sort of thing. But it  _ was  _ what girlfriends were occasionally supposed to do. She awkwardly reached out and patted her on the arm, which was as far as she could reach. 

“Uh...I’m not mad.”

Heather looked up at her, eyes full of tears, yet somehow not having eye shadow running all over her face. “But you  _ should  _ be. I gave you a concussion.”

“So what, Heather? We all do dumb shit. Mac stood up and sang and danced on that table. I basically pushed Martha Dunnstock off a bridge. But that’s never an excuse to do stuff like this to yourself. I’m not mad at you for the damn car accident, though it was dumb as fuck, but the worst thing is that I have to see you like this.”

Heather put her chin in her hands. “Like what?”

Heather flopped back onto her pillows, rolling her eyes. “Heather, come on. When’s the last time you even ate? Or slept?”

Heather groaned, lying back in her chair. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah.”

“I was worried. Seeing you like this...unconscious and injured, I just...I needed to make sure you were all right. I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t okay, or if I wasn’t here when you woke up.”

She wasn’t much for touching, but Heather reached out and squeezed her girlfriend’s hand anyway. Heather smiled through her tear-streaked face.

“Well, I’m all right now. I’m not mad at you, we’re all going to be fine, and I can help you study for your English test next week.”

“How’d you know I needed help?”

“Because, dumbass, you  _ always  _ need help. But I can only help you if you take care of yourself and don’t act like an idiot.”

Heather yawned. “Not acting like an idiot around you is gonna be pretty hard.”

“Oh wow, you really are tired.”

“Yeah.”

“Go the fuck to sleep.”

“Move over.”

Heather laughed. “This is  _ my  _ bed.”

“Well, I’m tired.”

“Fine.”

The girl with the red scrunchie lay down, and seconds later, she was fast asleep, head resting on Heather’s shoulder.

Heather gently wrapped her arms around her girlfriend and closed her eyes.

In the right circumstances, intimacy wasn’t  _ as  _ horrible as she’d thought.

So that was where they stayed. 


End file.
